LEAVING THE SHIP
At sundown the vessel was well outside the harbor and sail was
shortened. In the evening the captain went below for a nap, telling the
officers in charge of the deck not to go over three miles an hour, to
keep the land well in sight, and call him at midnight if all was well,
but sooner if there was any change in the weather. At twelve o'clock
Captain Anthony was on deck again. The weather continued favorable, for
which he was exceedingly grateful. The inverted season corresponded to
fall at home, and it was the time when storms were looked for. A delay
now would certainly be disastrous, and the weather was a source of the
most constant anxiety.
The captain remained on deck throughout the night. At noon on Sunday
the vessel had proceeded up the coast until it was about twenty miles
south of Rottnest lighthouse, off Freemantle harbor. Now he called Mr.
Smith into the cabin, spread out the chart, and explained to him that
the lighthouse was twelve miles offshore from the Freemantle jetty and
one hundred and ninety-seven feet above the level of the sea, with a
signal station on top from which the approach of vessels was signaled
to the town. He cautioned the mate to keep the ship out of near range,
and told Mr. Smith that the crisis had come and he was about to start
in the small boat. He was to lay off and on the land and keep a sharp
lookout for his return.
"If I do not come back," he said, "you must use your best judgment. Go
whaling or go home, as you like."
Then the men clasped hands, and Captain Anthony once more thanked
fortune that he could leave his vessel in the hands of a brave man who
could be trusted, whatever the emergency.
The captain then went on deck, threw a coat into one of the whaleboats,
stowed away a bag of hard-bread, two kegs of water, and half a boiled
ham, and ordered the boat lowered. A crew which the captain had
selected after much thought was then stationed at the oars: Mr. Sylvia
the third mate, Tobey the boatsteerer, Lewis a Portuguese, and Mopsy
and Lombard, two Malays. Each man was told to take his coat, and the
proceeding doubtless caused amazement among the men; but good sailors
obey orders in silence and no word was spoken among them.
It was one o'clock in the afternoon when the boat left the ship.
Captain Anthony was due at Rockingham at noon the next day. A small
sail was put on the boat, and she made good progress. Just before dark,
when the boat was well in under Garden Island, the sail was taken in
and oars were shipped, for the captain did not wish to make a landing
before nightfall. When the boat was off the south end of the island
the captain was startled at a roaring like thunder, and an instant
later saw blind breakers, ten feet in height, making directly for the
boat. He shouted orders to the men to look out for their oars and trim
the boat. They let the oars come alongside and succeeded in keeping
the little craft steady. She was lifted high in air on three of the
rollers. Then all was quiet, for the boat had reached the smooth waters
of Cockburn Sound. Oars were shipped once more, and the boat jogged on
in the darkness. The captain knew by the ranges he had taken as he came
through the passage that he must be near the spot selected as a meeting
place.
A landing was made on the beach. Captain Anthony stepped ashore and had
not walked more than three hundred feet when his foot struck the stake
which had been set up as a mark on his previous visit.
It was now about 8.30 o'clock in the evening. The boat was hauled up on
the beach and the men were told to lie down in the grass and sleep. It
was clear and warm, and, unquestioning, they did as the captain told
them.
Captain Anthony walked the beach all the night through, filled with
disquieting thoughts and longing for the day.